Her brows arch. “You dance?”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am.” Her finger trails slowly down the center of my chest, featherlight and dangerous. “You’re always so…stiff. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Mm. Is that so?” I lean in, close enough to feel her breath catch. My mouth grazes the shell of her ear. “You should know by now, detka, I don’t back down from a challenge.”
“Let’s see what you’ve got, then.” She laughs, an unguarded, rich sound that punches straight through my chest like a damn knife.
She’s never laughed like that for me before, and it tears through every raw nerve I have.
I clench my jaw, shoving that feeling down. This is nothing. It’s just a dance. A distraction. Nothing more.
I lead her toward the dance floor just as the music shifts and slows and pull her in, one hand resting at her waist, the other cradling her hand in mine while her arm slides around my neck.
And just like that, we fall into step. Like we’ve been doing this forever. She tilts her face up to mine, eyes flicking over every inch like she’s trying to read me. There’s wariness in her gaze. Curiosity too.
And I can’t look away.
Konstantin’s words echo like a curse in the back of my mind, a truth I don’t want to hear but somehow need. Because this moment, with her here in my arms, feels like more than a dance. And I don’t know if I want to push her away or pull her closer and never let go.
She’s not even trying to seduce me, and still, no one else comes close. That dress clings to her like a damn invitation. Her mouth, still swollen from our kiss, tempts me right back in. And her eyes…
Her eyes hold the storm I’ve spent a lifetime trying to outrun. And for one breathless second, I can’t imagine losing her.
She has no idea what’s circling around us or the danger she’s in, and I’m the only thing keeping the wolves at bay.
She can’t know the extent of it. If she finds out, she won’t survive it.
If anyone comes for her—whenthey come for her—I’ll be ready. I’ll spill blood so fast, the rivers will run red. I’ll bury their families, torch their homes, carve my warning into every wall they hide behind.
Because she’s mine now. And God help the man who forgets it.
But if she ever learns the truth, if she uncovers even a fraction of what I haven’t told her, she’ll never forgive me.
That used to mean nothing. Now…it somehow matters, and I don’t know how to reconcile that.
I tighten my grip on her waist, her body curving into mine, warm and trusting, and I despise myself for not telling her the truth. Her fingers trail along the back of my neck, nails grazing skin, and I lean in to press a kiss to her forehead.
She tilts her head back just enough to meet my eyes. “Are you okay?”
I almost laugh. “I don’t think you’ve ever asked me that before.”
“Don’t get used to it.” Her mouth tugs into a half-smirk, but her thumb brushes my jaw like she doesn’t mean a damn word.
Leaning down, I kiss her again. Slower this time. Softer.
Like I’m trying to memorize the shape of her before it all burns to the ground.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
FIONA
The wedding ends,but the night isn’t over.
The bedroom door shuts behind us with a soft click, and just like that, we’re alone. In his house. In his room.Ourroom.
And the very thought is suffocating.
